


Empathy Neurons

by Callisto



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Season/Series 08, Sick Jared Padalecki
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-09
Updated: 2013-03-09
Packaged: 2017-12-04 18:34:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/713759
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Callisto/pseuds/Callisto
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <i>‘Walking pneumonia’ they called it. Which was the stupidest thing Jensen had ever heard. Jared didn't so much walk with his pneumonia as he ‘wheeze-clutched’ with it...walls, the backs of chairs, Jensen. Whatever Jared needed he used, all the while thinking he was fooling everyone into believing he was better. He seemed to have taken that phrase of the doc’s as a fucking mantra, and was using it to justify staying upright and out of bed, because it was called walking pneumonia <i>for a reason, Jensen</i>.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Empathy Neurons

**Author's Note:**

> Giving Jared walking pneumonia *and* having a brilliant artist to collaborate with, has made my contribution to the a labour of love. Huge hugs and thanks to my beta Ancastar, who always makes me tell a better story.
> 
> My artist is the talented Beelikej, who spoiled my little story rotten. In the story you will find some of the art sprinkled about. But for the full impact, you really need to check out her art post [here](http://beelikej.livejournal.com/405232.html), where she designed all manner of icons and fabulous things.

_\- “All that’s separating you from him is your skin.” VS Ramachandran, author of ‘The Tell-Tale Brain’ -_

Jensen glared at Jared’s flight bag and fought the urge to kick it. ‘Walking pneumonia’ they called it. Which was the stupidest thing Jensen had ever heard. Jared didn't so much walk with his pneumonia as he ‘wheeze-clutched’ with it...walls, the backs of chairs, Jensen. Whatever Jared needed he used, all the while thinking he was fooling everyone into believing he was better. He seemed to have taken that phrase of the doc’s as a fucking mantra, and was using it to justify staying upright and out of bed, because it was called walking pneumonia _for a reason, Jensen_.

Yeah, right. As far as Jensen was concerned, the doc should have called it ‘lie the fuck down pneumonia’. That way he could actually get the idiot off his feet and away from planes, sets, and freezing Vancouver weather for a while.

“Jensen?”

A rattle of keys in the bowl, a cough, and Jared was home.

Jensen took a deep breath – something Jared could only dream of these days. He’d done the right thing he was sure of it. But Jared was not going to take this lying down. More’s the pity...

“In here,” he called, getting up to make a fresh pot of coffee. He was already in sweats with his laptop open at the breakfast bar in the kitchen. By some minor miracle he was actually on a Dean-lite week – Sam was busy getting emo with yet another grandfather who Dean heartily disapproved of, so Dean had stormed off and Jensen had actually been home before Jared two days in a row.

Only Cheryl, Jared’s PA, cute as a button and as protective as a rottweiler, had called Jensen late this afternoon to let him know Jared was booked on the last plane out to Austin, and that two of his scenes after Jensen left had had to be changed to Sam in a chair while confronting grandad. Jared, it seemed, coughed less and ensured fewer takes if he was sitting down. Which, yeah. So much for Jared’s ‘I’m fine, just go’ as Jensen had been leaving the set.

Jensen had listened to Cheryl with a growing tension in his jaw as he’d rubbed his forehead and tried not to take it out on her. She was doing her best, like they all were. She was forcing as much honeyed lemon tea down his neck as Jared would allow, and bringing everything she could think of _to_ him on set. But this was still Jared, who wandered off to throw snowballs at the crew, and whose idea of downtime was to ice up the door to Misha’s trailer.

Jensen had put the phone down and his eyes had fallen on Jared’s flight bag, all packed and ready to go by the front door. He hadn’t really noticed it when he’d come in, because one or both of them always seemed to have a bag packed and sitting by the front door for a weekend away. Only seeing it after talking to Cheryl had tightened Jensen’s jaw to the point of pain. Enough. It was about time he stepped up to the plate and stopped watching Jared fumble along with his ridiculous ideas of resting and being fine.

“Hey,” said Jared.

“Hey, yourself.” Jensen looked around from the coffee pot. Jared was leaning on the doorframe and trying to look nonchalant, but he was breathing a little too hard for a walk from the elevator. Jensen filled a mug and walked over. Then he kissed Jared’s cheek and handed it to him. They didn’t really do the ‘hi honey I’m home’ thing, but Jared was ill and Jensen was always going to be stupidly fond of Jared being a dumbass. Besides, all the better to store up some goodwill for the fireworks ahead.

“Thanks, man. It’s freezing out there.”

Jensen went back to the stool at the breakfast bar and listened to Jared take a couple of very noisy mouthfuls of coffee behind him. He wondered if he should just tell Jared outright or wait until-

“Jensen, I, uh, got Cheryl to book me out on the red eye tonight after all. Y’all have to give my love to Mikey and tell him I’ll catch him next time. It’s cool, right? I mean, he’ll be happier to have you and Tommy to himself anyway."

Decision made, then. Jensen turned on the swivel stool, gave Jared his full attention. “Yeah, about that... I’m sorry, but no, Jared. That’s not how this weekend is going down.”

Jared laughed a little nervously, as if he wasn’t quite sure if Jensen was messing with him or not. He cleared his throat. “C’mon, Jensen, don’t be like that. It’s not like we have anything written in stone for this weekend. Mike and—

He broke off to cough sharply into the bend of his elbow. Jensen shook his head and got off the stool to rescue the coffee from Jared’s now unsteady grip. 

“Give me that. Fucking idiot. Scald yourself, why don’t you?” Jensen winced when Jared had to almost double over to bark out a very wet and painful sounding rattle.

Jared straightened slowly, clearing his throat a few times as his lungs worked out how to breathe again. Jensen turned to put the coffee down, but Jared’s hand shot out and found Jensen’s wrist, stilling him. “What’s going on?” Jared asked hoarsely. “Why the fuck are you yelling at me for coffee and acting like I’m standing you up or something?”

Jensen twisted a little and got the mug on the counter anyway. He had a feeling hot coffee in his hand was going to be something of a handicap when it came to the conversation about to take place. He glanced at the hand encircling his wrist. It was warm--very, very warm. Which made it a lot easier to look up into that flushed face and get the words out there. “I don’t mean to yell at you for coffee. Dude, I’m just mad you’re still coughing like that. And I’m not telling you no because I give a fuck about you and me hanging out with Mikey and his crew this weekend, but because I’m planning on you and me staying right here.” Jensen took a deep breath, looked him right in the eye. “I’m sorry to go behind your back. But you are sick, you are not shaking this off like you think you are, and I am done tiptoeing round your ‘I’m fines’ and waking up every morning with a stress headache.” Jensen paused, let his words sink in a little. “So I, uh, I spoke to Cheryl and Mikey. I also cancelled your reservations and phoned your mom. No going to Austin this weekend, okay? Just...we’ll stay home, both of us, get you well.” 

It took a full minute. The clock ticked very loudly on the kitchen wall as Jensen stayed perfectly still. Jared kept hold of Jensen’s wrist and blinked a lot. 

“You...” Jared dropped Jensen’s wrist, almost flung it. He paced a few steps around the suddenly small kitchen, pushed his hair back with both hands, and then hung onto it as he faced Jensen again. “You spoke to _my momma_?”

Huh. Not what he thought Jared was going to hear out of all of that, but okay. That he could work with. “Look, Jeff and Veronique are there, and your dad is pretty much going to be wiped out this weekend. So your mom would really like it if we both went next weekend.”

“You...you spoke to my mom and...and you cancelled _my fucking ticket_?”

Shouting was going to hurt Jared way more than it was Jensen, so Jensen put his hands out, palms flat, perfectly willing to take one for the team to get Jared past all this rage and indignation. “Yes. I called your mom, Jared. She and I do talk, you know.”

“Oh, you two _talk_ , do you?”

“Yes, we _talk_ , dude. And could you quit repeating everything I say as a fucking question!” Jensen bit his bottom lip. So much for keeping his cool.

“How about this for a non-question? Fuck you!” Suddenly there was a finger in his face. Jensen rose up to his full height and batted it away.

“Fuck me? Really? Fuck me for caring enough to wanna take care of you? For being the one actually talking to your mom? That’s beautiful, Jared. Just beautiful.”

Jared had gone deadly still. “The hell you mean by that?”

Too late. Jensen was on a roll. “No, of course you don’t know what I mean by that. Why would you? Jared, the woman was practically weepy she was so happy I called to actually friggin’ talk to her. Because apparently all her son ever does is text her, or have his personal assistant call with arrival times. Which yeah, way to be real classy about—”

The punch when it came was more of a fist curled and thrown in reflex than anything with a planned trajectory. Didn’t mean Jensen didn’t have to spin and grab hold of something to stay upright.

The only sound in the room was Jared, breathing harshly.

Jensen stayed where he was, fetched up near the sink. He worked his jaw a couple of times and hung his head on an exhalation. 

Shit, shit, shit. How the hell had he let the situation get away from him like that? He raised his head back up.

“Jared, I—

But Jared was gone, coughing and stomping his way along the hall. A few seconds later the bedroom door positively vibrated on its hinges when Jared slammed it.

Great. Now Jared was probably going to rebook himself on that red eye out of sheer spite, and leave with an even higher fever than he came in with.

Jensen poured Jared’s coffee down the sink and regretted not kicking the damn flight bag.

Jensen heard the bedroom door open and close a good twenty minutes or so later. He braced himself–it hadn’t slammed and Jared’s tread down the hall seemed quiet enough. But that probably meant he’d run out of energy to do any more yelling and fist-swinging. No doubt he was simply going to take his high horse, his flight bag, and his fever all the way to Austin and back.

“Hey.”

Jensen looked up from the laptop. He was sitting on the stool at the breakfast bar in roughly the same position he’d been in when he’d first heard Jared say that from the doorway. But the same could not be said of Jared. Instead of the expected jacket and a huff, he was in gray sweatpants and a blue tee. He was also barefoot, and best of all, the flight bag was nowhere in sight.

Jensen snicked his laptop closed. “Um, hi.” 

“Look, Jensen—

“Jared, I—

That was ridiculous enough to help. Jensen rubbed the back of his neck and shook his head. “You first, man.”

Jared cleared his throat, his voice that low cracking husk Jensen, god forgive him, had gotten used to and barely noticed anymore. “I called my mom.”

Jensen nodded, unsure of Jared’s tone and unwilling to set either one of them off again by saying the wrong thing.

“You were right. About my dad, I mean. Mom says he’s pretty much on the couch this weekend. I said we’d both be there next week and she was really pleased. Though, you don’t have to if you don’t—

“Of course, I’ll go. I said I would.”

“Fine.”

“Well, okay then.”

“Right. But you had no right to do all that other shit behind my back, Jensen. Phone me, or text me, or I don’t know, send me a fucking homing pigeon! But don’t do _that_. Makes me feel like some kind of immature boy-toy, you asshole.”

Jensen sighed, put up his hands. “I hear you. I do. What can I say? I get wound up sometimes. And I’m not saying that’s okay. It is what it is, and to be honest, I’m not sure I want that part of me to be any different. Especially when it comes to you. But yeah, sometimes this...this control nut comes out and I just...”

“...think you’re in charge of the entire universe?”

“It comes from a good place, Jay. You gotta believe that. You’re sick; you’ve been sick for too fucking long now. I see you trying to hide how crummy you feel on set and god help me, I play along with everyone else. I let it go. And that’s no excuse, not for me. Bottom line? You need to get over this damn pneumonia once and for all. So you need rest. _Real_ rest. You know, here. With me.” He flapped his hand vaguely around the kitchen, in case it wasn’t clear quite where he meant Jared to do this. “I know you hate gettin’ fussed over but—

“Okay.”

“What?”

Jared shrugged and kept in a cough with difficulty, his upper body curling in on itself with the effort.

Jensen slid off the stool and took a step forward.

Jared wheezed himself upright. “I said okay,” he whispered. Then he cracked some weird, half-ass smile and held his arms out. Jensen walked right in, the relief of yet another storm weathered making him want to squeeze Jared tight. He settled for long sweeps of his hands up and down Jared’s back instead, as Jared wrapped his arms around Jensen and just kind of hung on.

A minute passed like that before Jensen thought he’d better say something.“’M sorry,” he said. He brought his chin up to rest it on Jared’s right shoulder. “’Bout the mom stuff. Way out of line on my part.”

Jared’s shoulders shook and it took a couple of seconds of increased patting before Jensen realized he was laughing and not coughing. Then he did cough and Jensen gave in and squeezed him. “Easy,” he murmured.

“Can’t believe we had a ‘your mom’ fight. Jesus, and I _hit_ you for it.” Like he’d just remembered, he pulled back and Jensen let his hands slide down to rest on Jared’s hips. He endured Jared tilting his chin to see his face better– it probably wouldn’t even bruise. “When was the last time we even did that, Jensen?”

“Season two remember? We hadn’t slept in like forty hours. You couldn’t get some dumb line out, and we both stopped finding it funny.”

Jared kissed the cheek he’d punched.

“Sap,” said Jensen.

“I remember we hugged it out last time, too.”

“Yeah, but you didn’t do that.”

“Wanted to,” said Jared licking his lips, and Jensen’s traitorous dick twitched. Damn it, he was supposed to be making Jared well, not getting off. Luckily for Jensen’s libido, Jared chose that exact moment to cough in Jensen’s face.

“Dude!” Jensen stepped away, theatrically wiping his neck.

“God, that is so uncool,” said Jared, trying to stifle both laughter and more coughs and failing at both. “Are you sure you still want to do this?” he managed, reaching out to pull Jensen back in. “No, wait. Don’t answer. Rub my back some more.”

Jensen rolled his eyes, even as he found himself in the circle of Jared’s arms and doing just that. He tried to concentrate the heel of his hand behind Jared’s right lung, the one with most of the crap in it. “Speed and pressure okay for you, sir?” he asked, going for dry and sarcastic. He guessed he’d missed it when he heard Jared yawn and answer sincerely. “Nah, you’re fine. Really. Feels nice...”

“Jared?”

“Mmm?”

Jensen staggered a little. “Dude, are you..?”

Jensen pulled back and Jared went with him, raising his head reluctantly. Jensen put a hand on his face. Shit, burning hot. “You’ve got a fever, big guy. Let’s get you to bed so you can fall asleep there, okay?”

“Yeah?” 

Jensen felt a stab of guilt at how glassy-eyed Jared suddenly was. Christ, he’d been about to get on a fucking plane like this.

“Don’t,” said Jared suddenly, snapping up and eyes right there. “None of this is your fault.” He leaned forward slowly until his hot, damp forehead pressed onto Jensen’s. “I’m just stubborn and a really, really good actor,” he whispered.

“Says you. No acting this weekend, Jared. Your stubborn ass is going to bed right now.”

Jared lifted his head and blinked. “Dude, it’s like, nine o’clock!”

“So?”

“Come with me?” Jared actually took hold of Jensen’s hand. _And swung it_.

Jensen looked at their linked fingers. He was doomed if Jared was going to be this adorable all of a sudden.

“Wow. You really are going to let me do this, aren’t you?”

“It’s about time I got a taste of those Florence Nightingale skills Mac adores.”

“God, that was one time of me holding her hair back after she ate bad fish and threw up and cried all night.”

“Well, I haven’t been near any fish but I do almost feel crap enough to cry all night, so we’ll see.”

Jensen studied him, his heart tugging a little at the confession. This was what he wanted, Jared with no front about how he was feeling. But it sucked that he was feeling this bad. Such a dumbass, this guy he loved. He put the hand Jared wasn’t holding up to Jared’s face, let it rest on his cheek. He smoothed his thumb along the dark skin under Jared’s eye. “C’mon,” he said. “I’m going to make you all better, Jared. You’ll see.”

Jared closed his eyes and leaned into Jensen’s hand. A couple of fever tears leaked out when he opened them again. “Promise?” he asked, his laugh shaky.

Jensen kissed him. “Absolutely. Now get going. I’ll bring your meds in.”

By the time Jensen was ready to slip under the covers, Jared was a snoring heap on top of them. Taking care of a guy the size and carelessness of Jared required some doublethink. So it had taken Jensen a while to track down Jared’s haphazard stash of meds and sort out what exactly he was supposed to be on. The painkillers and fever reducers were top of Jensen’s list, since he knew Jared had been cutting back on those. He’d heard tales of people cracking ribs from the coughing connected with pneumonia, and after watching the way Jared sometimes doubled over, he was inclined to believe them. Then there was the humidifier which Jared, of course, had forgotten to refill and switch on. About the only thing he had remembered was the horse-sized antibiotic he was taking twice a day.

Jensen contemplated the lump face down on the bed and thought about leaving Jared be. The apartment was warm – the thermostat was turned up nice and high. But then again, he was supposed to be keeping Jared here for a reason this weekend.

Jensen sat down carefully in the space near Jared’s hips and put his hand out to move Jared’s hair so he could see his face better. The bangs were slick and cool again, which meant he was probably gearing up for a doozy of a fever that night. Hot showers in the morning tended to open up his lungs and make him feel and talk better for a while–until he walked on set, got chilled, and fucked up his body’s thermostat. Which settled the issue about whether or not to wake him up.

“Jared. Hey...” Jensen shook his shoulder gently. “Need you to wake up for a minute. Gotta get some pills inside you.”

“Jensen?”

“No, the Queen of Sheba. Come on, Jay.”

“..’mcold. Leavemelone.”

“My pleasure. Just wake up for two seconds, that’s all I ask.”

Flushed, Jared blinked himself up onto his elbows and glanced around, eyes a little wild.

“Hey,” said Jensen.

“Timeizzit?”

“No idea. Take these.” Jensen got him twisted up into more or less a sitting position and handed him an assortment of pills and liquids that would hopefully let Jared sleep through the night. Then he manhandled him under the covers and allowed himself to be a hot water bottle for a while because Jared got the shivers.

“J-Jensen?”

“Sssh...what?”

“This...this is s-s-so freakin’ unsexy, man.” 

Jensen kissed the nearest clump of hair. “Like I’m not used to you damp and sweaty.” 

“Yeah, b-but...”

“Jared, quiet.” Jensen rubbed Jared’s arm as the shivers lessened a little. “None of this is a big deal. You know that.”

“Sucks tuh-to be you tonight, huh?”

Unseen, Jensen rolled his eyes. “Massively. You owe me wall sex.”

A minute passed. Then, “’Morrow,” said Jared sleepily. “’Sdoit tomorrow, ‘kay?”

Jensen smiled and settled them back on the pillows. “Whatever you say, stud. Now go the fuck to sleep, will you?”

But Jared was already snoring wetly into Jensen’s neck.

“Pancakes?”

Jensen didn’t turn around from where he was cracking eggs into a bowl.

“Yes, but not for you. These are for the neighbors.”

A pair of arms went around him from behind and his neck got nuzzled. “You lie, Ackles.”

Jensen looked for the whisk, tilting sideways and dragging Jared with him to the drawer. “Jeez. One promise of something fried and you’re anybody’s.”

Jared’s voice was hoarse, but then he had woken them up in the night with the mother of all coughing fits. Jensen had sat up with him, rubbing his back until he could breathe again, and Jared had mercifully gone back to sleep. 

Mid-whisk a thought occurred, and Jensen nudged Jared with his elbow. “How come I only remember you coughing that badly last night?”

When Jared didn’t answer, Jensen twisted around, dislodging Jared back a pace. Jared was biting his bottom lip, messy bedhead bangs everywhere and a distinctly sheepish look on his face. “I, uh, I’ve been getting up and going to the bathroom to do that whole lung explosion thing.”

Jensen tilted his head to the side and thought about hitting him with the whisk. He wondered how those stupid bangs would look in some light fluffy batter.

Jared had the sense to back up a step. “Y’all were beat, too, you know. It’s not like you’ve been sitting home all day sleeping plenty. The last time I looked we work the same insane long hours, Jensen. So don’t be glaring at me like that. ”

Jensen settled for shaking his head as he turned back to the eggs. “You’re an idiot, but you’re sick so I am not going to kick your ass. But just so we’re clear? Hack a lung up in front of me anytime, day or night from this point on. I insist.”

“Oh, I will. Don’t worry.”

“Good. Glad that’s settled.” Jensen waved the whisk at him. “Now go sit somewhere and stop making me regret the chocolate chips I’m about to add to these.”

Jared turned on his way out the kitchen door. “And bananas, Jensen! I want bananas, okay?”

Jared made it through a good-size stack of banana-filled pancakes and syrup, though Jensen had a feeling the large mug of coffee he took his meds with was not going to be the stimulant Jared was hoping for.

Sure enough, twenty minutes into highlights of a Laker game, Jared started yawning. By the baseball scores, he had his feet in Jensen’s lap. When Jensen switched over to golf, Jared started squirming around on the sofa trying to get comfortable. Jensen watched him for a second or two and made a decision. Even switched off the Pebble Beach Pro-Am he’d been DVRing for three days straight.

“Okay,” said Jensen, patting Jared’s ankles. “Let’s go.” He eased Jared’s feet off his lap, stood up, and extended his hand.

“What _go_? The hell, Jensen?” Jared rubbed his eyes, his voice suddenly rough again. “I thought this weekend was all about me resting and shit?”

“It is. But you’re blinking like Bambi, and this sofa is way too small for me not to get annoyed with you after a while.”

“So leave me to fucking rest, dude. Jesus. I can just...um, what?”

Jensen had leaned in close, smiling, softening the bite right out of Jared on that last word. He took his hand and began pulling him to his feet. 

“It’s nap time.”

“What I was trying to do, asshole.” But Jared was going with it, letting Jensen pull him upright.

“No. It’s nap time as in you-and-me nap time in that huge bed we spent a fortune on.”

“Jensen, God...it’s...it’s like ten o’clock or something!”

“Dude, what is it with you and the time? We are big ass actors. And as big ass actors, we can do whatever the hell we want whenever the hell we want. And no one needs to know.” He shrugged, kept it nonchalant, since for some reason he sensed this was a big deal for Jared. “I keep telling you this and you keep ignoring me. You’re sick. When you actually take them, the pills knock you out. And me? I wanna nap. Ergo, we go to bed and we fucking nap. It’s not rocket science.”

Jared seemed to genuinely mull it over; although God alone knew what the big deal was. Jensen was about to give up and switch the golf back on when Jared was the one to start pulling and pushing Jensen toward the bedroom.

“You said ergo, Jensen. You definitely need a nap.”

Sick or not, Jensen caught him in a headlock and all but threw him on the bed.

Jensen hadn’t been lying, but he hadn’t exactly been telling the truth either. The idea of sleeping at home, in bed, in daylight–well, what passed for daylight in Vancouver in winter–with Jared, a full-stomach, and nowhere to be and nothing to really do, was too intoxicating to let pass by. But he also knew that as much as his body was going to appreciate the extra downtime, he wasn’t going to sleep for anywhere near as long as Jared. Which was also fine. He could leave sleeping Jareds lie and head back to the golf after he woke up.

Meanwhile, he was going to make the most of Jared too out of it to notice a whole bunch of unabashed snuggling going on under the comforter.

“’Ch’ doin’?”

Jensen jumped. He looked down at the face that had suddenly arrived at his hip, comforter in tow.

“Uh, reading?” Jensen had thought about getting up, he really had. He reckoned he’d slept for a good hour before waking up to the sound of rain sleeting down their seventh floor windows. Jared had been on his back beside him, right shoulder a warm press into Jensen’s left side, his chest clear-sounding for once. So Jensen had simply eased himself up on the pillows as quietly as possible. Once he’d clicked on the small bedside lamp, all thoughts of getting up had disappeared. The room was suddenly ridiculously cosy, the only sound the rain and Jared. He’d exhaled slowly, sunk back on the pillows, and let the warmth from the comforter and the man beside him be the perfect balm to all the stupid crap he’d let build up recently.

Jared had coughed once or twice, but although Jensen had tensed and watched him, he hadn’t woken himself up with it. Just smacked his lips like a toddler and drifted back to sleep.

Jensen had picked up the book Jared was reading—something called ‘The Tell-Tale Brain’—and started browsing. Judging by the cover, it looked like typical on-set Jared reading material. A geek guy with an impossible name enthusing about something Jensen had never heard of.

Prepared to scoff, Jensen had been deep in empathy neurons and phantom limb pain when Jared’s head arrived on his lap.

“Read it aloud. The bit where you are.”

Jensen looked down, incredulous. But Jared had made a pillow out of the comforter on Jensen’s left thigh and slung his arm across Jensen’s lap. He really did seem to want Jensen to read aloud to him.

“Uh, I’m at the part where the guy is talking about phantom limbs?”

“Yeah?” Jared’s voice was scratchy again. Jensen’s left hand, the one not holding the book open, sought the back of Jared’s neck. Which was too warm.

“The things I do for you,” he muttered, before he cleared his throat and started reading.

He stopped twice for Jared to cough. “You could lie back down, you know,” he said, hand resting on Jared’s head. “Your ears will work from the pillow, dumbass.”

Jared said something into the comforter. 

“What?”

“I said,” Jared lifted his head. “You’re a pillow. Only now that sounds—

Another cough cut him off, this one sounding particulary sharp and painful.

“Jared...”

—retarded. ’M fine. Keep reading.”

Jensen got to the end of the chapter and stopped, closing the book. Jared’s warm breath on his lap was too distracting to concentrate on mirrors and boxes and phantom itches any more. He was starting to get a phantom itch of his own. 

Jared, the bastard, had noticed and was smiling.

“Shut up,” said Jensen, tapping him lightly on the head with the book. “You breathe too heavy.” 

Jared shifted onto his elbow and started to make a show of lifting the comforter, only to drop it when a series of short, sharp coughs took hold.

Jensen tossed the book and got both hands on Jared. He held on while Jared fought the painful cycle of breathe-hurt-cough he seemed to go through every once in a while. Though this was the first one today. Jared’s lips pinched in a tense line, the shoulders under Jensen’s hands lifting and falling with painful determination as Jared tried to pull enough air in without triggering another bout.

When Jensen sensed the worst was over, he tugged Jared and just kept him close, right hand rubbing Jared’s back again.

“Was gonna give you a blowjob,” wheezed Jared eventually. “Get under the covers while...while you were reading.”

Jensen snorted. “Yeah, right. That would have gone really well with the whole you-not-breathing thing.”

“Only need to breathe for _air_ , Jensen.”

Jensen eased him back and looked at him. “We need to get you somewhere you can breathe and make sense again. C’mon. I know just the place.”

Jared was the one who took three or four lightning quick tepid showers a day, Jensen the one who took one, maybe two. Never tepid, yet never as hot and steamfilled as the one he was having right now.

“You,” said Jared, as he cleared his throat and tipped his head back, “are a genius, Ackles.”

Jensen pulled Jared down for a kiss, liking that it lasted longer here amongst all the heat and steam he’d created. He was the one to break free and Jared grinned at him, bangs plastered every which way. Jensen had mocked the shit out of Jared for insisting on a shower stall the size of a small country, but he did love the fact that they both fit inside with ease. Jared was still grinning when he wrapped Jensen up in those long arms of his, stepping him backwards out of the direct spray. Jensen expected Jared to say something – or try another move, which lizard brain aside, was just not going to happen until Jared could get more than three sentences out at a time.

But nothing really happened. So Jensen was content to drift in a comfort haze of heat and skin and Jared, until he became aware that Jared’s hands were no longer just holding him. They were busy smoothing strong, circular paths over the muscles of Jensen’s back and shoulders. Jensen groaned and tucked his head against Jared’s neck when Jared paused and worked at a knot he didn’t know he had.

“Jared...”

“Ssh... Just relax. It’s the least I can do.” He felt Jared’s lips on his shoulder, then his neck. “All I need right now, is for you to stand still and take your back rub like a man.”

It really shouldn’t have stung Jensen’s eyes the way it did, but it was Jared’s fault for saying it so sweet and soft – and not coughing at the end of it. On Monday, no doubt he’d be taking snowballs down his shirt and resisting the urge to add a layer of wool to all of Sam’s outfits for the week. But for now he had Jared, breathing better, whispering sweet nothings to him, and wanting nothing more than to focus on _Jensen_ and take care of _him_.

Empathy neurons. 

Definitely a thing.


End file.
